Dust Lost In The Wind Poem by Ofentse Mercy Hajane

Leafly falling from mid-air,
We clobbered in places we call homes.
White painted,
Cold air venting from their windows.
Ghosts of deliverance running up and down the boarders of life and death.

The streets of the dark have themselves painted with faces,
so cold and emotionless.
The dark tar absorbing the blood running from each one's feet.
Nails dried and barked.
Architectures of the underground,
Uniformed in black,
Neatly curve away the flesh.
Literally,
They meet sir Death half away the road.
With his deafening voice,
he would sing away each body along the line.
Saying:
"After all,
You all just dust lost in the wind...! ! "